Chuck: The Race
by jdubs2997
Summary: Chuck is living his life out normally two years after the show. They haven't seen Casey, nor done any spy related stuff. Though, one day, Casey comes back. He tells them of a plot to destroy the US government from the inside. Can they stop total anarchy, can they infiltrate the Kremlin? Can they beat the greatest communist power ever devised? Let's see.
1. Chapter 1

_"You know, Morgan had this crazy idea that if we kissed, maybe you'd remember everything."_

_"Chuck?"_

_"Yeah"_

_"Kiss me_."

I woke up slightly startled. I hadn't dreamed about that day in, ever. Sarah was still sleeping with her feet under mine, as per usual.

If you didn't know, my name is Chuck. Chuck Bartowski. I live in Burbank California, I work at the BuyMore, oh and yeah, I used to have a government intel app called the intersect in my head that sent me into the spy game for five years. Sarah Walker used to be my handler, along with John Casey. I eventually fell in love with Sarah, and two years today, I proposed to her. She is now Sarah Bartowski. After a while, me, Sarah, Morgan Grimes, my oldest friend, and Casey, started our own spy business. However, Sarah accidentally downloaded a failed intersect, and it wiped her memory. Some bastard named Nicholas Quinn turned her against us with her failed memory. She still thought she was a spy. After a long period of trial by fire, me, Casey, and Morgan managed to convince her he had wiped her memory. She was convinced. She stayed, only after shooting that bastard. Casey left to work with his girlfriend. Morgan, Ellie, my sister, and Devon, her husband, all stayed with me. They were my family. They all were.

So after one week, Sarah's memory finally came back. She remembered the wedding. She remembered where we finally fell in love. It all came back. She was the most relieved, but some other breaths sighed in relief.

I stared up at my ceiling. Thinking how perfect our lives were. And that's where I jinked it.

I woke up the next morning to the bright smell of coffee. Sarah wasn't in bed, so I assumed she had woke up early. I rolled out of my side, and padded out to the kitchen. Sarah was on the couch, watching Glee.

"Honey, I thought you hated Glee?"

Sarah startled a little, and turned around.

"I do, but I love the music they sing."

"Well I'll say you do. You sing along on every song."

She smiled that little smile that just melts your heart with happiness.

"Well, I see you made coffee."

"Sorry, I needed something to drink, and milk just didn't pas the bar."

"Nothing to be sorry for honey, just thankful for."

I walked over and kissed her on the head.

"And that's why you, Sarah Bartowski, are my wife.

She smiled at me again. I walked over to the coffee machine and poured a cup. When I finished it, I went to my room, and dressed. The proud Nerd Herd uniform. White on to, black on bottom, red tie in the center. Also, the pocket protector.

I grabbed a donut, and yelled at Sarah.

"Hey, honey, see you when I get home!"

"Okay, love you."

I walked out the door. Just as I reached the exit gate from the courtyard, Morgan Grimes, my best friend since kindergarten, popped out of his house.

"Hey, Chuck, what's up my man!?"

He gave me a high five, and smiled.

"Hey! One of these days, we should go to some range, and learn how to shoot a gun, mainly so we could own people on COD."

"Morgan, one, not a great idea, two, you know I have a thing against guns. Hence why I only use tranquilizers."

Morgan was a true to heart gamer, but he has a heart of gold and a work ethic like that of Bill Gates. While he was always content to be normal for a day, he had some weird seizure of oddness a day. I know it's not a word, but still, don't particularly care. I work at the BuyMore. I don't need any English degree.

Anyways, we hopped into the herder, our nickname for company cars, and sped along silently to the store. When we arrived, nothing less than Jeff and Lester were outside, setting up some kind of performance.

Oh, you don't remember Jeff and Lester, well, let me fill you in. Lester's the Hin-Jew Canadian from Quebec. He's slightly creepy, and a stalker in some words, but his singing voice is half that of an angel. Jeff, is the creepy dude who used to be clinically insane, until we found out he slept in a car with the engine on, and got carbon monoxide poisoning. After Devon cured him, we found out he was a completely sane, rational guy. Though he was still creepy.

They were setting up for their band, Jeffster. They were not that bad too, as they once saved a general from a bomb. Long story.

"Chuck, buddy, hey, you need to get us a ticket permit to let us sing here. Can you do that for me..friend?"

"Lester, you don't need a permit for here. You can just sing. This is the BuyMore. My BuyMore. So sing your heart out Lester."

"Thank the gods for you Chuck. I'll repay you somehow. If you ever need someone creeped on, call me."

"Okay?" Note, I said this in a skeptical voice.

I walked through the doors, and stopped and took a long smell of that beautiful BuyMore smell. Smells like...success. Some days, it just smells like a store, but today wasn't one of those days.

All the green shirts messing around with the tv's in the back, and the nerds playing with, well, anything. Morgan snuck in his usual coffee and drank it in silence. One of the rare times he was silent.

As the day progressed as usual, the gnawing hunger in my stomach gained. I checked the old home theater room, making sure the old castle entrance was sealed. It was. I peeked around for Morgan. I found him razing a green shirt.

"Hey Morgan, I'll be back in a while. I'm heading to orange orange to get a smoothie. Keep the fleet afloat."

"Aye aye, cap!"

Morgan gave a half salute, and continued razing the green shirt.

I walked across the parking lot to the smoothie shop. It used be another entrance to castle as well. About halfway through the lot, I swear there was a black Crown Vic in the alley across the way. I shook it off. Probably shouldn't have.

I reached the store, and the 'cling' of the doors opening filled the little restaurant. Nobody was behind the counter.

"Hello?"

I was greeted with an ominous silence. I strolled the the computer, and opened the old coded browser that let the castle door open. I checked recent access section. The voice responder called out, "Access, one, ten minutes ago. Check done."

I was puzzled. Who accessed castle?

I punched in the code that opens the door, and slid in. I retrieved the emergency tranquilizer gun form the hidden picture safe. I cocked it, and started clearing the base. I checked the server room, the holding cells, the training floor, and finally preceded to the armory. I suddenly heard a loud click, like that of a pistol slide snapping shut. I calmed my breath, thought where to shoot, and rolled around the corner of the door. I rolled the front sights onto a man. One I knew. One who was an old friend.

"Oh, Chuck, long time no see?"

"Casey?"


	2. Casey's home

"Casey?"

"Chuck. Well, um, how's the family?"

"Casey, what the hell, here you are in castle, and you haven't even told us you were coming."

"Alright, I guess I have some explaining to do."

"Yes Casey, yes you do."

"Well, I'll start from the beginning."

I glared at him in silence while he tried figure out some way to tell me.

"It started a month ago. I was working with my _friend_..."

"Casey?"

"What?"

I gave him a look of 'you know what'.

"Chuck, I'm not going to say it."

"Okay, okay. Just, go on with your story."

"Well, I was working with my _friend_, and Beckmann contacted us on contract. She wanted us to run an op in Russia. She didn't want the US to be blamed if things fouled up on the mission, so she hired us. We were to follow a man name Leon Morosov. He's an ex-FSB agent, and supposedly had his hands on a massive nuclear device. We trailed him to St. Petersburg, and into an old warehouse. All we found was a note saying "Gotcha".

"Casey, this doesn't explain why your in castle."

"We found out he ran to Moscow and is holed up inside the kremlin. His guy in the American government is feeding him info, and we have bomb threats everywhere. If we don't stop him, he will assassinate the Russian president, and take over, and lead a world wide communist assault on freedom."

"Still doesn't explain why your here."

He held up a massive silver pistol with a small scope on it.

"I wanted my Deseret Eagle. Can't leave home without it."

I gave him a look that told him that wasn't all, and he wasn't telling something.

"Okay, okay..I wanted you and Sarah to help me. And...Morgan."

"No Casey, absolutely not. I'm not getting anyone in my family in the spy game again. I left it two years ago, and I've left it for good."

"I bet Sarah will want to help."

"She will not."

"Oh yeah, if she does, will you agree to helping?"

"Absolutely. I'll win. She won't want to get involved ever again. I know it."

Casey nodded in silence.

"Hey Chuck, grab that bag and carry it out behind me."

I nodded and grabbed it. I got to the stairs and lifted up.

"Dang Casey, this is heavy, what's in it?"

"C-4 and detonators."

I froze up and dropped the bags.

"Stop being a sissy and grab it."

"You know I don't like bombs."

Casey rolled his eyes and glared at me until I picked it up. We delivered the bags to the Vic, and drove to my house in silence. When we reached it, something was off.

"Casey, stop."

"What?"

"The Morgan door is open. We never open the Morgan door anymore."

Casey reached under the seat and pulled out his handgun, and I pulled out my gun. My tranquilizer gun.

"Chuck, stay behind me. If things get funny, flank around and take them from behind."

I nodded in silence. We proceeded up to the Morgan door, and rolled in together. He hopped in first while I covered him, and then vice versa. The Morgan door is in my bedroom, and it's an old window. We positioned ourselves on opposite sides for a rolling entrance.

He tapped me on the shoulder and finger counted to three. When he hit three, we rolled into the door.

The first thing that hit me was Sarah making some more coffee. Second thing, was the young guy on our couch. Casey noticed him too. A look crossed his face, one that said,"knew I shouldn't have done that."

"Sarah! What the hell's going on here?"

"Oh, Chuck, meet Gabriel Dunn. He's a friend of Casey..."

That's when she saw Casey next to me.

"Casey, what are you doing here? You didn't even tell me!"

"What's with you two? I'm a grown man. I don't have to tell you everything."

"Casey, your my oldest friend. Don't give me that."

"Sarah, what's he doing here!" I gave a sideways point to the guy on my couch.

"He's a merc..."

"Actually, I prefer black ops hit man."

"Casey, who is he?!"

Casey thought for a moment.

"Well, he's a old friend from an old op."

"Yep, I owe old man Casey my life for getting me out of trouble at the kremlin. My name doesn't stick to well there anymore."

"But, your young?" I was honestly confused.

"Well, 21 to be exact. And, here's my story. I was on vacation with my folks when I was 14, and my parents were killed in a rebel raid in Chechnya. I was saved by Russians, and trained in the art of assassination. People don't often see my face without it being the last thing they ever see. I work for the highest bidder, and Casey saved me when America was the highest."

I was surprised to see a young man being a hit man.

"So, Casey," Sarah said,"What are you doing back?"

"Well, I have a proposal for you."

"What?"

Casey went on to explain the operation story, and the situation of the threats. I looked at him with pleasure, knowing Sarah would decline.

"Oh god yes, we'll help."

"Wait a minute, what?!"


	3. The Odd English-Fremchman

"Wait a minute, what!?"

"Honey, I said we'll help."

Casey grinned at me.

"Looks like your helping me."

I threw a look over to him, and continued eyeing Gabriel. I didn't trust him. Still wouldn't if he hadn't proved something. Something that I consider invaluable. Something I owe him for.

"So, Gabe, if I may, how are you connected to all of this?"

"Well, the nuke that went of in India..."

"Wait a minute, this guy set off a nuke, and you didn't think to tell me?"

"No. Anyways, when it went off, my oldest friend died in the blast. I was on the hill 20 miles from it. I saw it happen. I blinked, and a city was gone. It became personal. That, and Casey needed someone he could trust, and he didn't want to get you back in the game, but this was my idea."

"Well, you're very blunt."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind when Debate and Forensics opens up again. Sorry, I don't argue with my voice, I use my Glock. I'm an assassin, remember?"

I nodded slowly. For the rest of the day, we sat around catching each other up on what was happening. We all shared stories from the past two years. Even Gabriel. That guy was young, but tight in the collar. He hated the book, and preferred being above and beyond the law.

Finally, Casey asked about Morgan.

"Hey, where's the moron Morgan?"

"Hmm, actually, I don't know. Let's go check his apartment."

Casey nodded, and got up and followed me to the door of Morgans apartment. I noticed the door was open slightly, but Morgan never could get them closed. We payed no attention.

"Hey, Morgan! Home buddy? Someone wants to see you."

We listened, and nothing broke the silence.

"Casey, if Morgan was home, he would answer and he always lock the door. Let's check if something is wrong."

We opened the door and walked to the living room. There, on the couch, was Morgan, with duct tape over his mouth. I ran over and peeled it off.

"Morgan, what happened?!"

"He did."

He nodded head to a dark spot in the room, and a man stepped out of the shadows with a gun pointed at us.  
"Ello Mr. Casey. I hope your day isn't going to be ruined by this little sticky wicket. I do hope it ends where we all go about our business without any loss."

"You might want to tell me your name. If you don't, you will end up like the many nameless victims on my list."

"Jack Despereaux. I'm an English Frenchman. Also, that and an ex member of SAS, but that's not important now. What is, is I'm going to kill this, Morgan."

"Over my dead body, that and yours."

Someone spoke from behind him, and a dull, muffled thump emanated from the back window. Gabriel was standing there, with a silenced Russian service Mp-43 pistol in his hand. He hopped in the window.

"Funny gent he was. Never did like Englishman, nor Frenchman for that matter, nor a little of both combined."

"Something you have against Brits?"

"No, just not overly fond of them shooting at me every time I'm in London, or even England in general."

"They must not like you."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure when you kill their head of MI-5, it kinda rubs em' sideways."

"Your being more revealing with us now."

"Actually, I'm not. I just have a long standing feud with them. Like, batman and every criminal in Gotham feud. Except I'm pretty, lethal."

"What do you know, martial arts wise?

"Krav Maga, Judo, karate, SOC-P, Russian hand to hand, and CLWS. You know, the German special forces thing?"

"Wow. You know a lot of them."

"Hence why I'm considered a lethal weapon. With just my hands."

"Remind me to keep that in mind if we ever play poker."

"Why?"

"Oh, no particular reason."

"Lemme guess, you cheat?"

I rolled my eyes and responded indignantly. "Yeah."

"Cheaters never win. Unless you're a hit man. Then you cheat death all the time."

I nodded. While we were talking, Casey untied Morgan. Morgan had ran to the kitchen excitedly and scurried back with a coffee mug with fresh coffee. The mug had gun specifications all over, and they were broken down.

"My god, Morgan you kept that?"

"I knew you'd come back one day, John. Wanted you to have something familiar to drink from."

"Morgan, your kindness has touched me."

"Hey, um, Casey? There's a body in our living room. What do we do with it? No rush."

"Yeah, that poses a problem."

"We'll be able to dump it in the ocean. We're not far from it."

"No, I have a better idea. If we bring it to the old CIA dump site, I'm still on their payroll. We can dump it there."

"Well, geez. Why didn't I think of that."

"Maybe your not familiar with Burbank."

"True. For a 21 year old assassin, you would think I would've been here before."

"True, I mean with your pay grade and with all your...wait, your an assassin?!"

"Yes."

Morgans faced brightened with this fan girl type face.

"No Morgan, you don't get to go with us."

"Come on, bro. You knew this is all I've ever wanted."

"No Morgan. I'm not letting you come with me, Casey Sarah, and oh, an assassin!"

"Well Chuck, we do need a tech guy to bug the house.."

"Yes. I'll do it."

I cast a sideways glance to Casey and Gabriel. Morgan almost pleading and Sarah came in. Looks like I was going to get dragged in again.

"Well. What's the plan Casey."


End file.
